


Down Time

by ShadowQuest



Series: One Final Leap [10]
Category: Quantum Leap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-28 23:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3874102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowQuest/pseuds/ShadowQuest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the destruction of the Other Project, Sam & Al are hoping to finally be able to have something of a normal life, but something happens to Sam that puts his very sanity in jeopardy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down Time

Chapter Nine

“Down Time”

Every time Cat woke up, there was someone different in her hospital room.  This time it was Verbeena, and she was happy to see the psychiatrist.

“You’ve got great timing,” she said by way of greeting.

“Oh?” Verbeena sat in the chair at Cat’s bedside.  “Something troubling you?”

Cat used the remote to raise her bed slightly, and nodded.  “You could say that.  You know they kept Dad overnight?”  When Verbeena nodded, she asked, “Do you know why?”

With a wry smile, Verbeena said, “I assumed it was because he’d gotten into a fistfight with a man half his age.”

Cat grinned.  “Oh, he got banged up, but he gave better than he got.”  The grin faded.  “We barely got out before the place blew up.  That cop, Tamsin...”

“Former,” Verbeena interjected.  “She quit the force a couple days ago.  Cited ‘personal reasons’.”

“Huh.”  Cat thought about that for a bit, then went on, “Anyway, she had taken me from Dad, and Sam was helping him.  They were behind us when it went up, and Dad got knocked out by a chunk of the door.”

“Oh dear.”

“Yeah.  Slight concussion, and his wrist got sprained as he went down because Sam couldn’t let go quick enough.  But other than that, and the blows he took in the fight, he was pretty damn lucky.  We all were.”

Verbeena sat quietly a few moments, then said, “I have a feeling there’s more.”

Cat nodded.  “Oh, yeah.  Tons more.  Like...all the things Zoe said to me about Dad.  How he was washed up, didn’t love me, never wanted kids...”

“But you know none of that’s true,” Verbeena cut in.  “Just more lies like your mother told you.”

“Yeah.  _Exactly_ like Mom said.  Some of them were almost word for word.  Like...they knew each other.  And Zoe knew things about Dad, like the cage in Vietnam...”  She trailed off when she saw the look on Verbeena’s face.  “What?  ‘Beena, what’s wrong?”

Verbeena sighed, then took Cat’s hand.  “Honey, we need to talk.”

 

Clinking ice in a glass and a shadow falling across her book heralded an arrival Tina had been expecting, and she looked up.

“You know, when you said ‘vacation’ I pictured a tropical beach somewhere, with gorgeous cabana boys bringing me exotic drinks.”

Al looked down at his wife, stretched out in the chaise lounge in a bright blue one-piece swimsuit, wide-brimmed straw hat, sunglasses and hibiscus-patterned sarong.  “Well, if you’d like, I could take these back inside, then go see if Sam would be willing to slather on some oil and put on a pair of board shorts.”

Tina made a face.  “Yuck.  No thank you.”

Al arched an eyebrow and chuckled.  “Did you actually just say ‘yuck’ about Sam’s body?”  He sat in the chair next to her and handed over one of the drinks.

“I did.  He’s one of my best friends – I don’t consider him a sexual object.”  She moved the straw around to take a sip and sighed happily.

“That’s good to know.  I’m sure Donna would be relieved to hear it.”  He sat back and sipped his own drink, then asked, with a rather serious tone, “And if he _wasn’t_ one of your best friends?”

Tina frowned over at him.  “What are you asking, Al?”

He shrugged a shoulder.  “Well...Sam’s...younger, more...athletic...”

She set her drink on the table and was up and out of her lounge chair before Al knew what was happening.  She stood looking at him a moment, then took his drink and put it on the table next to hers, and sat on his lap.  Looking into his eyes she informed him, “I’m only interested in one man’s body, Albert Calavicci, and that’s yours.  You are the only man I’ve ever loved, so stop being so silly.”

“But...”

She put a finger against his mouth.  “Zip it.”  She leaned closer to him and kissed him.  When she finally let him up for air, she said in a husky voice, “That should prove my point.”

Without a word, he got up off the chair, lifting her as he stood, and carried her inside.

 

Donna walked up behind Sam where he stood at the window, and slipped her arms around his waist.  “Deep thoughts?”

“What do you think they’re doing?”

“Who?”

“Al and Tina.”

Donna frowned.  “I assume they’re enjoying their vacation.”

Sam grunted.  “Some vacation.  They haven’t left the house since he got back from the hospital.”

She sighed.  “What’s it matter, Sam?  They’re spending time together; whether it’s here, or somewhere else shouldn’t make a difference.  Al never really took any personal time all those years you were trapped in the past; he always wanted to be around in case you needed him.  The furthest he would go was Vegas, and even then he’d drop whatever he was doing the second Ziggy located you.”  She walked around in front of him and looked up at his face.  “What’s really bothering you?”

He looked down at her and smiled.  “Never could get anything past you.”  He sighed and rubbed his face.  “It was a near thing.  Getting them out of that damn building.  If Tamsin hadn’t been as big of a speed demon as Al is...”  He shook his head, stuffed his hands in the back pockets of his pants and turned from the window.  “I never should have let him go by himself.”

“Oh, Sam.  You’re not going to start that again, are you?” Donna complained, folding her arms over her chest.  “How in the world would both of you have gotten into that complex?  Al’s plan was dangerous, but at least it worked.”

“Yeah, _too_ dangerous.  Thames could’ve shot him right there.  And then Cat would still be their hostage and...”

Donna put a finger against his lips.  “Shh.  All you’re going to do is make yourself crazy.  And tick me off.”  When he frowned, she went on.  “Sam.  You would’ve done _anything_ to get Sammy Jo out if it had been her, and you know it.  And you would’ve insisted that Al stay behind, no matter how insistent he was, or you would’ve punched his lights out and gone without him.”

Sam smiled slightly.  “And then gotten an earful when I got back, if he didn’t follow me...”  He trailed off, suddenly realizing.

“Like you did?” Donna finished for him, with a little smile of her own.  She shook her head. “Honestly, you two can be _damn_ stubborn about things.  Especially dangerous things.”  She looked at her husband, who was leaning on the arm of the couch, and shook her head again.  “I never took you for an adrenaline junkie.”

Sam blinked in surprise.  “I wouldn’t...I’m not one of those guys who throws himself off the top of a building or the side of a mountain.”

Donna arched an eyebrow.  “No.  Particularly since you’ve got a thing about heights.  You will, however, rush into a burning building, or into the line of fire, with no regard for your own safety.”

“Well...but...I...”  He finally gave up; she was right, and he couldn’t argue with that fact.  There were countless times he’d thrown himself into a situation in order to save someone else without really considering what could happen to himself.  He opened his mouth to argue that Al was hardly the type to take such risks, but then closed it a moment later.  Boxer, fighter pilot, astronaut.  Not exactly safe occupations. 

“Mm.  That’s what I thought,” Donna said with a slight smile.  “Can’t come up with a credible argument, can you?”

Sam sighed.  “No, I really can’t.”

She went over and took his hand.  “So.  What else is troubling you?  You’ve got so many worry lines you’re starting to look like a man twice your age.”  She brushed his graying hair away from his forehead and kissed it, trying to ease some of the creases.

He grimaced at her choice of words.  Or possibly at where his thoughts had been going.  With a sigh, he admitted, “I’m worried about Al’s health.”

She frowned, not really sure where this was coming from.  “If there was anything wrong, they wouldn’t have let him leave the hospital.”

“Yeah, I know.  But...they were only treating what they could see.”

Now she was even more puzzled.  “What are you talking about?”

“Sometimes I hate being a medical doctor.”  He got up and paced a bit in front of the couch.  “He told me a while ago that he gets these...really nasty headaches, and...sometimes he forgets things.”

“Has he seen anyone?” she asked, even though she knew the answer; she knew Al well enough to know that it was nearly impossible to get him to see a doctor.  Sam had actually tricked him into getting examined at the hospital, and would’ve gotten punched if not for Al’s sprained wrist.

Sam shook his head.  “Of course not.  I tried to get him to tell me any other symptoms, but...”  He shrugged.  “At the time we kind of put it off to stress, and figured the vacation in Oregon would help.  Which...”  He made a face and shook his head.

“Yeah, wasn’t exactly...restful.  So...maybe this one will be.  Cat’s safe, you’re home, nothing for him to worry or stress about.  He can just...relax.”  A slow smile spread across her face.  “If Tina will let him, that is.”

Sam arched an eyebrow.  “What, she has projects planned for him?”

“Oh, not projects,” Donna replied, grinning broadly.  “Other...ways to keep him occupied.”

“What...oh.”  And then he chuckled.  “Not sure how restful that’s gonna be.”

She put her hands on his hips and pulled him close.  “Shall we conduct an experiment?”

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he smiled.  “I like the way you think.”  He gave her a kiss that promised of more, then said, “Just one minute.”  He went to the front door and locked it, then went into the kitchen and locked the backdoor as well, then came back to the living room and pulled the drapes.  “With our luck...”

“Your luck’s about to change,” she promised, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom.

 

“I should get a dog,” Sammy Jo lamented aloud.

“What’s that?” Ziggy asked; they were in the middle of a project, and the computer wasn’t sure if Sammy Jo was talking out loud or to her.

“I said I should get a dog.  Or a cat.”

“Ah.”

“You wouldn’t understand; you don’t get lonely.”

“While it’s true I don’t experience human emotions, I do understand the concept of loneliness.  When Al was cut off from Sam, I observed severe loneliness.  And...”  The computer trailed off, suddenly unsure if she should continue.  Years ago she would have simply stated her assumptions, based on what she had seen, but she had been learning tact (something which Al had said was long overdue) and realizing that at times her words could hurt those she was speaking with.

“What?”

“Well, I don’t wish to...presume anything, but...it seemed the Admiral was suffering from severe depression.”

“Given everything he went through, that’s understandable,” she said, noticing that Ziggy had slipped back into formal mode, which she seemed to do when she was uncomfortable with the topic at hand.

“But it was more than that, Doctor Fuller.  I mean...more than just...lingering feelings.  Being separated from your father, unable to contact him...it was...frustrating.  And at the same time, I believe he felt...useless.  And also somewhat of a failure.  By then, of course, I was limited to text conversations with him, but the despondency I was detecting in his responses...”  She paused for quite some time, then said quietly, “I hope that I’m incorrect, but...I have a feeling he was considering suicide.”

Sammy Jo felt a shock of cold wash over her.  She’d never considered...well, no, that wasn’t exactly true.  She knew how much her father meant to Al, that their relationship was stronger, deeper than mere friendship.  For years Al had been the one thing in Sam’s crazy world that made any sense, his one link back to the life he’d left behind, even if Al couldn’t tell him much about that life.

The first time the budget committee had threatened to cut funding, Al had told Sam that he could get along without Al, if he had to.  And that had turned out to be the case, at least where the Leaping was concerned.  But Sam couldn’t live without Al in his life.  That was a proven fact; he’d gone back to save him in a reality where he didn’t even know him.  Their connection was that strong.  Some of it likely had to do with their brainwaves having been synced for so long, but Sammy Jo had a feeling that had there been no Project: Quantum Leap, had they stayed on the Star Bright project, they’d still be as close.

And for Al, who’d grown up in an orphanage, lost his younger sister and his father, who had five successive failed marriages, Sam was the closest thing to a stable family he had.  She couldn’t imagine the intense emotions he must’ve been feeling when he could no longer go back and see Sam.  He was alone, cut off from his best friend, his wife and other friends had moved away.  Even the computer he used to talk with daily was no longer what she’d once been...

“Doctor Fuller?” Ziggy asked after some time of silence.  “Sammy Jo?  Are you all right?”

She shook her head to clear it.  “Yeah.  I...just...thinking.”

“I’m sorry to have...dropped that on your lap, as it were.  But...to be frank, I’m still worried about Al.”

Sammy Jo frowned at the statement.  “Why?  Dad’s home, Cat’s safe, he and Tina are...”

“When Al activated the handlink when he went after Cat, her wrist communicator was turned on.  I...overheard part of a conversation between them in the hospital.”

Sammy Jo sighed, about to lecture the computer on eavesdropping, again, but what Ziggy said next pushed that thought out of her head.  “Zoe had mentioned a tiger cage to Cat when she first brought her a bowl of rice.”

“Oh...damn.”  Sammy Jo closed her eyes and shook her head.  The last thing Al needed was to have those memories brought back.

“Indeed.”

“Well, hopefully after Cat comes home from the hospital, things can start to get back to normal.  But...I’ll have a talk with Verbeena, let her know we’re concerned.”

“Thank you,” the computer said warmly.  “I know we had this conversation, or a version of it, before you were able to get your father home, but...it’s been bothering me.  I appreciate being able to...get it off my chest, so to speak.”

Sammy Jo smiled, and then a very odd thought came to her.  It was outlandish, but it was one of those little ideas that just won’t leave once they show up, no matter how you try to rationalize them away.  She filed it away for pursuit when she had more time, and turned her attention back to what they were working on.  “Well, I’m glad I could be of some help,” she told the computer truthfully.  “Now...where were we?”

“I’ve finished compiling Sam’s Leaps in chronological order,” Ziggy replied, bringing up the results on Sammy Jo’s screen.  “Did you want to chart them on both the original and altered timelines?”

“Hmm.  That might make it easier.  If I can see where a particular Leap landed in both I’ll be better able to follow the changes.”

“Very good.  One moment...”

 

A couple days later, she finally found the time to do a bit of research into her idea, and was bent forward in her chair, studying the computer screen, when a pair of hands suddenly covered her eyes.

“Miss me?” a voice asked from behind her.

Sammy Jo jumped out of her chair and grabbed her friend in a hug.  “Cat!  I didn’t know you were home!” 

“Oof.  Yeah.  Just got home.  Umm...air...ribs...”

“Oh.  Sorry.”  Sammy Jo let go of her and grinned sheepishly.  “You’re looking better.  How do you feel?”

Cat grimaced.  “Still feel like a side of beef worked over by Rocky Balboa.  But I’ll live.”

“Great!  I mean...great that you’ll live, not great that you...”

Cat grinned.  “I know what you meant.”  She perched on the corner of Sammy Jo’s desk.  “So...you didn’t answer my question.”

Sammy Jo frowned for a moment, then laughed.  “Of course I missed you!  I even told Ziggy I was considering getting a dog.”

“Oh, that’s harsh.  A dog to replace your best friend?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Sammy Jo protested.  “It’s just...you were in the hospital, Tina was ‘on vacation,’ Dad and Donna...”

“Man, you’re way too easy,” Cat said with a chuckle, shaking her head.

“You’re lucky you’re still recovering, or I’d slug you right now,” Sammy Jo threatened, shaking her own head.  “You are such a brat.”

“But you love me.”

“But I love you,” Sammy Jo agreed.

“So.  What’s been going on?  What’d I miss while I was recuperating?”

Sitting in her chair again, Sammy Jo shrugged.  “Not much, really.  Alia tracked down her mother, and they’re going to meet in a few days.  Ziggy and I have been working on chronicling Dad’s Leaps, trying to see if we can track the changes he made and what impact they had on the original history.  We’re interested to see if what he did back there actually _did_ change things for the better.”

“Wow.  That’s heavy.  You sure you wanna find out?”

“Well...yeah.  I mean...he was back there for a reason.  All those lives he changed, the people he Leapt into and their families and friends...they were all affected.  And...some of the...currents of time had to have been altered, too.  We know he changed things here, for us.  And...those changes had to be for the better, right?”

Cat raised an eyebrow.  “Well...if not for him, then...you wouldn’t be here.  And I never would’ve met you.  So...yeah, I’d say there were some things that were definitely changed for the better.”  She smiled warmly, then glanced at Sammy Jo’s computer screen, and frowned.  “Robotics?  New hobby?”

Sammy Jo chuckled.  “Just...a crazy idea I had a while ago.  It’s nothing.”

“Your last crazy idea was the virus that brought down the other project, which sure as hell wasn’t ‘nothing.’  What are you up to?”

“You’re gonna think I’m nuts.”

“I already do.  Spill.”

Sammy Jo sighed.  “Well...Ziggy and I were talking about...”  She paused, unsure if she should bring up Ziggy’s concerns about Al’s mental health.  “Well, stuff,” she went on, “and she made a comment about getting something off her chest, and this goofy little voice in the back of my head said ‘Too bad she doesn’t have an actual body’ and then I got to thinking about transferring her into a synthetic body...”  She trailed off when she saw the look on Cat’s face.

“You...want to turn Ziggy into the Terminator?”

“No!  No, nothing like that.  I just...I thought...”  Now she frowned.  Put that way, her idea _did_ sound terrible.

“Buffy ‘bot?” Cat suggested, fighting the grin.

Sammy Jo blinked.  “Umm, no.  I did not plan on turning our super-intelligent computer into either a killing machine _or_ a sex robot.”

“Good.  Because I can guarantee I wouldn’t like either option,” Ziggy chimed in.

“Ziggy!  _What_ have I told...” Sammy Jo started.

“I did not intend to eavesdrop,” Ziggy cut in, “but I’m supposed to inform Ms. Reynolds that the Admiral and his wife are growing impatient and that lunch is getting cold.”  She was being purposefully snooty, and the two friends laughed.

“Tell Dad I’ll be there in five minutes, Zig,” Cat requested.

“Very well.”

Cat sighed and shook her head.  “Honestly, that computer...”

“You better get going,” Sammy Jo said, standing up.  “I have a feeling Al’s gonna be anxious anytime you’re out of his sight for more than ten minutes.”

Cat grimaced.  “Yeah.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to put one of those kid leashes on me.”

Sammy Jo chuckled.  “He won’t go to that extreme.  But he does worry; you’re his daughter.  You’re the only blood relation he has left.”

“Yeah, I know.”  Cat sighed.  “Which...there’s some things we need to talk about, when you get a chance.”

“I’m here for you, any time.  You know that.”  Sammy Jo hugged her friend, carefully, then said, “Now, get a move on, before they come hunt you down.”

After Cat left, Ziggy said, “I am familiar with the Terminator, however I am finding no references to a ‘Buffy bot’.”

Sammy Jo chuckled.  “A robot built to resemble the Slayer in the fifth season of Joss Whedon’s ‘Buffy: the Vampire Slayer’,” she explained.  “Spike...”

“Ah, yes.  The English vampire desired a...robot programmed for sex, and had Warren Means build it to resemble the Slayer, whom he was falling in love with.  Rather...unique.”

“Cat loves that show.  She got me hooked about a month ago, and we’ve been having marathon viewing sessions.”

“I...see.  And...you thought designing a robotic body for me would be a...good idea?”

“Well...”

“How do you know I wouldn’t turn out like Ted?”

Sammy Jo frowned.  “Ted?”

“From the second season episode of the same name.  Joyce Summers...”

“Oh.  Right.  Ya know...that whole being able to watch seven years of a show in less than a minute and then reference it in conversation...is a little weird.”

“I apologize.  However, you should keep in mind that my memory banks are loaded only with history and pop culture up to 1995.  The intervening ten years are, for the most part, unknown to me.  I do try to...research things that I hear you or Caitlin talking about, but...”

“I’m sorry, Ziggy.  I never even thought about that.”  Sammy Jo sat back down at her computer and pulled up a program that would allow her access to Ziggy’s memory banks.  “Let’s bring you up to speed, shall we?”

“Thank you.”  After a few moments, she added, “I do believe things would not go well for either Sam or Al if you were to develop a body for me.”

“Good point,” Sammy Jo said with a laugh.  “Especially if we were able to design a body that matched your voice.”

“Precisely my point.”

The more Sammy Jo thought about that, the more she laughed.  And when Ziggy pulled up an image of actress Christina Hendricks, and said “Something like this?” she completely lost it.

 

“Al, would you just relax?” Tina demanded for the third time.  “She’ll be here.”

Al stopped pacing, looked at his watch and sighed.  “I should’ve gone with her.”

“Oh, would you stop!?  She’s an adult!  And it’s not like she’s on the other side of the world, or even in the next town over.  She wanted to see Sammy Jo, and you know she’s perfectly safe in the complex.  Nothing can happen to her in there.”

“But...”

“Do I need to distract you?”

It took him a few moments to realize what she meant, and then he shook his head.  “I wouldn’t mind, but Cat...”

“Is right here,” his daughter said as she came in.  “Sorry.  I hope I’m not too late.”

“It’s fine, dear,” Tina assured her, bringing their lunch to the table.  “So...how’s Sammy Jo?”

“Fine.  She and Ziggy are trying to track the changes Sam made, see how much they altered the original history.”  She waited a bit, then added, “She was also considering building a robotic body to transfer Ziggy into.”

Al nearly choked on his beer.  “She....what?” he spluttered.

Cat grinned.  “Don’t worry, Dad - it was just a silly thought she had.  She’s not really going to build a robot.”

Al wiped his mouth with his napkin.  “I would hope not.”  He looked over at Tina, and shook his head.  “Kids these days.”

Tina arched an eyebrow as she suggested, “With Ziggy’s personality, not to mention ego, I think it’s best for all of us that she _remain_ a computer.”  She looked pointedly at Al.  “I’d hate to have to kill you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.  Because knowing our computer as well as I do, she’d want a very...sultry body.”

Al shook his head.  “Trust me, you wouldn’t have to kill me.”  He grinned.  “I’d be dead of a heart attack.”

“Oh?” she asked, a dangerous tone in her voice.

Now Al realized he’d stepped in it.  “I-I don’t mean...I wasn’t...not that I’d...”

“Mm-hmm.  Eat your lunch before it gets cold.”

 

“I just think you need to get away from here,” an exasperated Donna said.

Sam shook his head.  “Why?  This is my life’s work, Donna.  There’s so much I still have to do.  Besides, what’s wrong with this house?”

“It’s here,” she stated.

Sam frowned at her.  “I don’t get it.  You’ve lived here for ten years...”

“I moved away, Sam.  I had a nice apartment, I was a substitute teacher.  I had a _life_!”  The moment she said that, she knew it was the wrong thing to say, but she couldn’t take it back, or make it better.

Sam stared at her.  “Is...is that what this is about?  You feel...what?  That you have no...purpose?”

Donna sighed and dropped into the couch, running a hand through her hair and shaking it back into place.  “No.  Yes.  I...I don’t know, Sam.  It’s just...”  She sighed again.  “When we started this project, I was working with you and Al, helping you develop it.  And then when you...left, I kind of...stepped into your shoes, helped Al run the place.  When he was with you, I was in charge.  When he was...unavailable and some...government bigwig was making a fuss, I was the one who took the call.  It wasn’t always easy...hell, it was _never_ easy. But it’s what I had to do.  We all had to...take on different roles once you left.”  She shook her head.  “In fact, one of my _other_ roles was mother hen to Al – between me and Tina we made sure he took care of himself when he was home.”

Sam sank down into a chair opposite her and sat quietly, processing all this.  Finally, he said, “I...I didn’t know, Donna.  I’m sorry.”  He looked over at her, at a complete loss.  “What...”  He swallowed, and tried again, “So...what do you want?”

“Honestly?  I don’t know.  When I moved...”  She leaned forward, lacing her fingers together, and studied her nails.  “When I moved out, I...I was actually scared.  I hadn’t lived on my own since college.  I...it wasn’t that I had...given up on you, I just...”  Her voice cracked, and it took her a few moments to be able to continue.  When she did, Sam could hear the pain in her voice.  “I couldn’t stay here anymore, Sam.  This place, this...dream...took you away from me.  After the government cut our funding, and the project went black...”  She swallowed hard and stared at the floor for a while.

“But after a while, once I had my own place and was getting some jobs teaching high school science, it was like...”  She looked up, and a tear slid down her face.  “It was like I’d _found_ myself.  I enjoyed teaching, I enjoyed getting kids excited about science, about physics.  And it felt _good_ , Sam.  You know my past.  You _changed_ my past.  When I moved...I finally had a _future_.”

Sam stood up, but when Donna tensed, he sat back down.  “I...I don’t know what to say, Donna.”  He looked over at her, feeling his heart start to break.  He had a very terrible feeling about where their marriage was headed.  “Do...is there anything I can do?”

She stood, and shook her head.  “I need to go talk to Verbeena.  I’m sorry, Sam.  I still love you.  I just...”  She looked at him, swallowed down the sob, then turned and left.

 

“Sam?  Hey, Sam.  Hello?  Are you in there?”  Al waved a hand in front of his friend’s face, and frowned when Sam didn’t even blink.  He put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and gave it a shake.  “Hey!  Sam!”

Sam blinked and shook his head slowly.  “What’s Ziggy got?”

“Huh?” Al’s frown deepened, and he leaned down to look at Sam.  “What do you mean?”

“Huh?” Sam echoed, clearly not quite back yet.  He frowned and rubbed his forehead.  “I...What were you saying?”

“I was _trying_ to locate you.”

“I’m right here.”

“Yeah, physically.  Mentally?”  Al shook his head.  “You feeling ok, kid?”

“Yeah, I...I’m fine.” Sam ran both hands down his face with a heavy sigh.  “You...”  He reached a hand out and poked Al’s arm.  “You’re...solid.”

“Uh, yeah, Sam.  Always have been.”  Now Al was starting to get worried.  “What’s wrong?  Donna came over to talk to Tina and...well, it just seemed...really tense in there, so I skedaddled.”

“Donna?”  Sam stood up, and it all came back to him in a rush, and he promptly sat down again.

“Hey.”  Al crouched in front of the chair.  “What’s going on, Sam?  You’re kinda freaking me out here, buddy.”

Sam slowly looked at Al, and asked him quietly, “What’d it feel like, when you got divorced?”

Al shook his head in confusion.  “Divorce?  What are you talking about, Sam?  Who’s getting div...oh.”  He covered his mouth with one hand, then swiped it downwards as he stood.  “Is...but...no.  C’mon, Sam.  Not you and Donna.”

“I...I don’t know,” Sam admitted.  “Maybe.  I...”  He sighed heavily, and Al could hear the start of a sob in that sigh.  “She...we were...talking about...moving.  Away from here.  She...she said...when she left, after the blackout, she...got a job as a substitute teacher, and...”  His voice cracked as he said, “She had a life.”

“Oh, Sam.”  Al knelt down and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder in sympathy.  He couldn’t find any words to help; he wasn’t exactly the best one to be giving marital advice.

Sam’s voice was thick as he went on.  “She...said that...this place had...taken me away from her, and...”  He looked at Al, and the tears started.  “She didn’t mean just when I first stepped into the Accelerator.”

Al sighed heavily.  There really wasn’t anything he could say, but Sam was his best friend, and in a world of hurt, and he needed to say _something_ , try to ease the pain somewhat.  “Well...”  Not a bad start, but where to go from there?

Sam, though, wasn’t done.  “She just...doesn’t understand, Al.  This...whole thing...it was a life-long dream for me.  I never set out to...make a name for myself or anything like that.  It’s not like I’m in this for fame or money or anything.  I just...”  He sighed raggedly and ran a hand through his hair.  He was talking more to himself than to Al at this point.  “I wasn’t...real popular in school.  Always in Tom’s shadow.  I tried to...live up to him, but...I just...couldn’t.  And then...he got killed in Vietnam, and Dad died, and Katie...”  He shook his head.  “I just...I felt like...I’d let my family down.  Like...I didn’t try hard enough.  I had to...fix things, make them right.  Quantum physics was so...easy for me.  Everything just...made sense.  And...it all fell into place.  I could build a time machine and go back and stop Tom from getting killed, save Katie...”  His gaze grew distant and his voice got softer.  “I didn’t think it worked.  Not at first.  I woke up, and there was someone else in the mirror.  I couldn’t even remember my own name.  But then...it was like...I was given a-a mission.  ‘Help others.’ And...I realized I was really _good_ at it.  I always...found the right thing to say, did the right thing at the right time.  All those people...they all had better lives because of me.  I changed _so many lives_.”

“I know, buddy,” Al said quietly.  “You did a lot of good.  But you’re done now.  You’re home.  You can rest.”

“There’s so much...still to do.”  There was a plaintive quality in Sam’s voice now, as if someone were denying him something he truly longed for.

“No, there’s not, Sam.  You done good, kid.  Lots of good.  It’s over.  You can live your own life now.  You’ve got Donna and Sammy Jo.  You have a family, Sam.  And you’ve got me, and Tina and Cat.  Verbeena’s still here.  We’re your family, too.  We love you, and we’re here for you.”  Al was fighting against the rising panic; he felt like he was losing Sam, and he didn’t know why, or what he could do to bring his friend back.  “Come on.”  He stood, and held a hand out to Sam.  “Let’s go see if Tina and Donna are done gabbing.”

When Sam didn’t respond, he tried a different tack.  “I’m starving.  There’s this great little burger joint I haven’t been to in years.  Let’s go get a couple of big, juicy cheeseburgers and a mound of fries.”  He waited a few moments, then sang, “I like mine with lettuce and tomatoes...”

Sam blinked several times, frowned, and looked at Al.  “What in the world are you on about?”

Al let out a relieved sigh.  “Damn, Sammy.  I thought I’d lost you again.”

“What?”

“You were...never mind.”  Al shook his head.  “C’mon.  Let’s go get something to eat.”

Still frowning, Sam agreed.  “Yeah, all right.  I could do with some lunch.”

Al, who’d been heading for the door, spun back around to face Sam, a very worried look on his face.

“What?” Sam asked, confused by his friend’s reaction.

“It’s suppertime, Sam.”

“What?  No, it’s not.  It’s...” Sam looked at his watch, and his mouth dropped open in surprise.  “But...”  He looked towards the window, and was shocked to see that it was dark out.

“Yeah, maybe you need to talk to Verbeena,” Al told him.  “I think you kinda went into one of those...whatchallits, fugue states.”

Sam stared at Al, actually horrified by the implications.  Was he losing his grip on reality?  Was this a consequence of traveling through time, occupying other people’s lives?

 

The next morning, Sammy Jo dropped in on Cat.  Although Al had tried to convince her to stay with them, Cat had returned to her quarters.  She wanted to sleep in her own bed again, but unfortunately she hadn’t gotten very much sleep.  Far too many horrible images came to her mind as she lay in bed, and when Sammy Jo knocked on her door, she’d been staring up at the ceiling for over an hour.

“Ooh.  Rough night, huh?” Sammy Jo asked when Cat, hair tousled and eyes bleary, opened the door.

“I think I had six different nightmares,” Cat replied, turning to shuffle to the couch and plop down.  She tucked her legs up to one side and wrapped her arms around a throw pillow, resting her chin on it.

Sammy Jo winced in sympathy as she closed the door.  “That sucks.  I was gonna see if you wanted to come over for waffles, but...”

Cat made a face.  “After the nightmares I had, food’s the _last_ thing I want to think about.”

Sammy Jo sat at the other end of the couch.  “That bad, huh?”

Cat looked over at her.  “Well, one of the nightmares was I got locked up in this little cage, and Zoe kept feeding me until I got too big for the cage.  I was actually oozing out between the bars.”  She nodded when Sammy Jo cringed.  “And another time they starved me so long I was able to escape by breaking off a finger and sticking the bone into the lock to pick it.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair.  “Then there was the time it was Dad locked up in the cage, and they were poking him with sticks...”

“I think I’ve heard enough,” Sammy Jo protested, holding up a hand.  “Damn.  I’m sorry, Cat.”  She put a hand on Cat’s calf, and asked, “I suppose you’ve talked to Verbeena?”

“She came to see me while I was in the hospital,” Cat replied.  “She...well, she told me about Mom...working for the other guys.”

“Your mother was messed up, Cat.  And...they took advantage of that.  That’s what they were good at.”

Cat nodded.  “Yeah, I know.”  She stared at the floor for a few moments, then asked in a quiet voice, “You don’t think...it’s hereditary, do you?”

“No.  Absolutely not.” Sammy Jo moved closer to her friend.  “No.  What happened to your mother...” She shook her head.  “A lot of that was because of the drinking, and the drugs.  And...her unwarranted hatred of your father.  It made her sick, Cat.  And Zoe manipulated her.”

“She was mad at my father.  She loved him, and he hurt her.”

Sammy Jo snorted.  “Love?  I highly doubt Maxine ever knew the true meaning of the word.  Sweetie...”  She gently moved Cat’s legs out of the way so she could sit next to her.  “I know it’s hard to...think badly of her.  She’s your mother.  But...all the things she did, to you and to Al, she did them out of hatred.  Out of anger.  Maybe some of it was because of Al’s drinking, but I think a lot of it was actually directed at herself.  She was mad at herself for falling for him, angry that she failed at the things she wanted to do.  She thought she had failed their marriage, and it was easy to be mad at him rather than look at what she herself had done.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one thing, she never stood up to him. She never said ‘Your drinking is hurting our relationship.’  Or ‘I feel neglected when you spend hours out at that project and don’t come home until it’s too late for dinner’.”

“Do you think it would’ve worked?”

Sammy Jo shrugged.  “I don’t really know.  It might’ve.  But it doesn’t matter now, ‘cause it’s over and done.  My point was you can’t blame your father, and you can’t worry that you’re going to turn out like her.  You’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’ve a helluva level head on your shoulders despite everything you’ve been through.”  She sighed.  “Look, I know it’s hard, but...you gotta move on with your life.  Your father loves you, absolutely.  The fact that he stormed that damn complex and blew it sky-high to save you should be proof enough of that.” She smiled when Cat blushed a little.  “And Tina loves you.  So do Dad and Donna.”

Quietly, Cat asked, “And what about you?”

Sammy Jo blinked, then pulled Cat into a hug.  “Seriously?  You have to ask?”  It was a completely sisterly gesture; Cat was hurting, and needed comforting.  Sammy Jo doubted highly that her friend had gotten much in the way of affection growing up.

Cat snuggled against her, and they sat quietly for a time.  Just when Sammy Jo thought Cat must’ve fallen asleep, she asked, “Would you...I know this’ll sound weird, but...well, would you mind sleeping with me tonight?”

For one brief moment Sammy Jo was caught off guard.  And then she realized what Cat was asking.  “Of course.  I’ll stay with you as long as you need, sweetie.  We’ll get through this.”

Cat smiled, stretched up, and kissed her friend’s cheek.  “I love you.”

“And I love you, my catling.”  She shifted position a little, then suggested, “Now, why don’t you close your eyes, and try to get some sleep?”

 

Sam hadn’t slept well, either.  After supper with Al at the burger joint, he’d returned home to an empty house.  Donna’s clothes were still there, so she hadn’t left him.  He assumed she still needed some time to herself, and was likely sleeping in her old quarters in the complex.

Worrying about their relationship kept him up half the night.  That Donna had stayed as long as she had was amazing; he was, effectively, MIA when he was trapped in history, and she could very easily have given up on him and moved on with her life.  Beth had.  After only two years, she’d given up on Al, had the Navy declare him officially dead, and remarried.

And that was what had kept him up the other half of the night.  Worrying that some of the things he’d done back there _weren’t_ for the better.  Would Al have had a better life if Sam had convinced Beth not to remarry, to wait for him to come home?  Cat wouldn’t have been born, or at least she wouldn’t have had Al for a father.  But maybe he and Beth would have had kids of their own.  Al had said it wouldn’t have been fair to kids to constantly relocate them, but maybe after he’d come home, and recovered from his time as a POW, he might’ve changed his mind.

Would they still have met on Star Bright?  If they had, would Al have joined Sam in developing this project?  If he hadn’t, if Sam had had someone else as his partner and holographic observer, then he never would have known who Beth’s missing husband was, and he would’ve saved the partner of the undercover cop he’d Leapt into, the way he was supposed to, and history would’ve repeated itself.

He was dozing in his chair that morning when he heard the door open, and was halfway out of it when he realized it was Verbeena, and not Donna, who’d let herself in.

“Oh.  Sorry.  Did I wake you?” she asked, pausing in the door.

“No.  Well, a little,” Sam admitted.

“I would’ve called, but I thought it’d be best to come by,” she said, closing the door and walking into the living room.  “How’re you doing?”

Sam sat up and rubbed his face.  “Been better.  Although...” He frowned.  “Just right now, I don’t think I could honestly tell you _when_.”  He gestured to the couch.  “Can I get you anything?”

Verbeena shook her head as she sat.  “I’m fine, thank you.  So...”

Sam sighed.  “Yeah.  You talked to Donna?”

She nodded.  “And Al.  He’s concerned, Sam.  He said you got a little confused last night, thought he was still a hologram.”

He shrugged a shoulder.  “Just...got lost in thought.  Lots to think about.”

Verbeena arched an eyebrow.  “I bet.  Care to talk about any of it?”

“Ahh, Doc...Look, I know you mean well, but...I’m fine.  Really.  Donna’s got a point, actually.  I should get away from here for a while.  Hell, we all should.  Little vacation would do us all good.”  He was trying to keep his tone light, but his heart wasn’t feeling it.

“Yes, because the last one went so swimmingly.”

Sam winced.  “Well, that was...kinda my fault.”

Again the slender eyebrow arched.  “Oh?  How do you figure?”

“Well, I should’ve...remembered.  I mean, the name was right there.  Dirk Simon.”

“Really, Sam?  You remember the names of _all_ the people you encountered in your Leaps?”

He frowned.  “Yeah.  Most of them.  I think.  Some are easier to remember than others.”

She leaned back and crossed her legs.  “Name five.”

“What?”

“Right now.  Off the top of your head.  Name five people you Leapt into, and what you were there to do.”

He frowned.  “Why?”

“Just...humor me.”

With a sigh, Sam shook his head, and then complied.  “Ok.  Me.”  He smiled.  “Al.”

“That’s cheating.”

He scoffed.  “Fine.  Five, huh?”  He stared up at the ceiling, trying to collect his thoughts.  “Well, Jimmy LaMota.  Twice.”  He lowered his gaze.  “Speaking of which, how’s Alia doing?”

Verbeena actually shook a finger at him.  “Uh-uh.  No getting out of it, Sam.  Give me five _different_ people you Leapt into, and why you were there.”

There was a bit of a growl in the sigh this time.  “Father Pistano.  Catholic priest.  There to keep another priest, Father Mac, from killing a young boy in revenge for another young boy’s death.  Rod ‘The Bod’ McCarty.  Chippendales dancer.”  He grimaced at the memory of being objectified, “treated like a piece of meat,” as he’d told Al.  “To keep a deaf waitress from turning to prostitution, and to get her accepted into a dance studio.”

Verbeena nodded.  “Very good.  Go on.”

Again his gaze went to the ceiling, as he searched his memory for other names.  “Samantha Stormer.  First time I was a woman.  Keep her roommate from killing herself over an affair with her boss.”  He chuckled.  “Totally freaked him out in the end.  Told him I was a man.”

She smiled, but didn’t say anything, waiting for him to go on.

“That’s three.  Umm...”  Suddenly he grinned. “Gilbert LaBonte,” using the Southern pronunciation of “Zhu-bear”, “owner of LaBonte’s Quilting and Sewing Academy.  Otherwise known as ‘The Best Damn Cathouse in New Orleans.’  Ask Al about that one some time.”

“I’ll make a note of it.  What were you there to do?”

The grin faltered, and then faded.  “Help a young pregnant woman escape her abusive husband.”

“And...one more.”

Sam frowned in concentration.  There were so many names, faces, times and places to sift through.  And he knew he couldn’t remember them all.  There couldn’t possibly be room in his brain for all that information.  Their “Swiss-cheese” theory was actually rather apt – some of Sam’s own memories...fell out to make room for the personality of whoever he was replacing, and then once he Leapt out, that person’s memories disappeared, to be replaced by the next one.  Although sometimes it didn’t work that way, and he “melded” with the person he was replacing.  If their brain patterns were close enough to his, he’d pick up their speech patterns or mannerisms, or even any health issues they might be suffering.  Like the time he was a pregnant teenager, and nearly delivered her baby.  Or when he was a lawyer with heart problems.  Or when he was...

“Hidell,” he said, his voice changing subtly.  “Alik J. Hidell.”

Verbeena sat upright and stared at him.  That wasn’t a name most people would recognize, but she, and everyone else at the Project, knew it all too well.  It was an alias used by one of the most infamous men in history, the man accused of assassinating the President of the United States; Lee Harvey Oswald.

That was one of the worst Leaps for everyone involved.  Sam ended up in Oswald’s life six times, each Leap bringing him closer to November 22, 1963.  And each Leap took him mentally further away from them.  Ziggy had theorized at the time that somehow during the initial Leap Sam and Oswald had actually exchanged physical neurons, which kept trying to return to their respective brains during each successive Leap.  There were moments when Al was questioning Oswald in the Waiting Room that he was very clearly Sam, and moments when Sam was quite obviously losing control to Oswald.  Like now.

“Sam.  Look at me, Sam.  What’s your name?  Where are you?”

Narrowing his eyes, he looked at her.  “My name...is Alik J. Hidell.  I am a member of the ACLU...”  He paused, shook his head with a frown, and tried again.  “My name...is...Doctor...Samuel Beckett.”  It was clearly an effort for him to get the words out; there was a sheen of sweat on his face, and he was gripping the arms of the chair very tightly.  “Samuel Beckett,” he repeated.  “And it’s...October...26th, 2004.” He let out an explosive breath, and collapsed in the chair.

“Ok Sam,” Verbeena said quietly, getting up and crossing to him.  She crouched at his side and put a hand on his arm.  “It’s ok.  You’re safe.  You’re home, Sam.  It’s ok.”

 

Once Cat had finally drifted off to sleep in a much-needed nap, Sammy Jo realized she was trapped.  Cat had her head in Sammy Jo’s lap, and she couldn’t get up without waking her friend.  Even if she could manage to slip free, if she left and Cat woke up...

However, she wasn’t going to be bored.  She could still work on some of her theories simply by calling out to Ziggy and having her work things through.  There was one in particular that she was actually going to need the computer’s assistance with, and the timing was perfect.

“Ziggy?” she inquired, hoping she wouldn’t disturb Cat’s slumber.

“Yes?”

She glanced down to find Cat still sound asleep, and smiled slightly to herself.  “Hey.  I’m...kinda not able to get to my office right now, but...would you mind running some theories for me?”

“Certainly.  What do you have in mind?”

“Well, we never really paid attention to what happened in someone’s life once Dad did whatever it was he was there to do, and Leapt out, right?”

“Correct.”

“Mostly because we never really _needed_ to know.  The only changes we really tracked were the ones that had a direct impact on us.”  She paused a few moments, trying to get her mind to settle down so she could think clearly.  “Except now we know what happened to someone indirectly affected by what he did.  And that change actually affected us, too.”

Ziggy sounded intrigued when she requested, “Go on.”

“Ok.  I’m still having a bit of trouble following the twists in this one, but maybe if I lay it all out for you it’ll become clearer to me.  So...here goes.  June 25, 1957.  Dad Leaps into Al as a young pilot.  In the original history, Lieutenant Lisa Sherman was going to testify at Bingo’s trial, that he was with her the night Commander Riker’s wife Marci was killed on the beach, even though it would mean the end of Lisa’s career, because she was married and having an affair.  Later that night she was killed in a car crash because she was crying and lost control of her car.  When Dad got there, he didn’t know any of that; he figured he was there to get Bingo off, so he told her not to testify.”

“With you so far,” Ziggy said.

“She still died that night, until Dad managed to change history by finding Chip’s cigar stub in Bingo’s car, and then Chip admitted that Marci’s death was an accident.  By sending Bingo back to himself before that weekend, Dad managed to save not only Al’s life, but also Lisa’s.  Now, here’s where it gets really trippy – we’ve just learned that Lisa is Alia’s mother...”

“I see where you’re going with this,” Ziggy cut in, as Sammy Jo had expected her to.  “Had Sam not Leapt into Al and saved Lisa’s life, Alia would not have been born.  Which means that the other project would likely have had someone else Leaping through time, most likely Zoe.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what I thought.” Sammy Jo agreed.  “I wonder if Dad would have ever encountered Zoe?”

“Quite probably, since their...mission seemed to have been ruining people’s lives, while your father was there to save lives.”

“So, in effect...Dad’s building this project, going back in time and saving Lisa’s life is directly responsible for Alia being born, joining the other project, meeting Dad in the past, and in turn being saved by him.”

Ziggy was silent a few moments, and then said, in a quite Vulcan fashion, “Fascinating.”

 

Sam scrunched his eyes shut, and rubbed them with the thumb and index finger of his right hand.  After a few moments, he opened them, and then frowned.

“Hi Doc,” he said, sounding surprised.

“Hello Sam,” Verbeena answered, with a gentle smile.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” he admitted.

“I just got here.”

“Oh.”  He pushed himself upright in the chair.  “Can I get you anything?”

“No, Sam, I’m fine.  How are you?”

He rubbed his forehead.  “All right.  A bit...headachy, though.  Didn’t get much sleep.  And...I feel like...”

“Yes?”

“Well, I feel like...something happened and...”  He trailed off and shook his head.  “I should know what, but I-I...can’t seem to remember.”

“It’s all right, Sam.  I’m here to help you.  What is the last thing you remember?”

His frown deepened.  “Do you mean...today?”

“Yes.  Or the last thing you remember from yesterday.  Whatever comes to you.”

Sam sat silently for a few minutes, then said, “Donna.”

“What about her?”

“I...We...had an argument. About my staying here.  She...she doesn’t like it here, wants to...move, restart her life.  But... _this_ is my life.  There’s so much...”  He trailed off again, and sat staring at the far wall, his eyes slowly going out of focus.  “She just doesn’t understand.”

“Have you tried explaining it to her?”

“Yes, but...it doesn’t work.  I-I...I don’t want to lose her, but...I can’t just...walk away from this.”

Verbeena could hear the edge of panic creeping into his words, and reassured him.  “It’s all right, Sam.  No one’s asking you to leave.  Not right now.  Maybe, once you get everything done, the two of you can find a nice house somewhere.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice soft.

“After you talked to Donna, what happened?”

“Then...Al came.  Al came, and...we talked.  And then he...he sang.”

Verbeena arched an eyebrow.  “Al...sang?”

“Yeah.  For a cheeseburger.”  Again he frowned, and shook his head.  “No.  He sang...about a cheeseburger.”

“Ah.”

“Because he was hungry and...we went out to eat.  Just us.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It was.  We had cheeseburgers, and fries.”  He smiled.  “Just like in the song.”  And then he turned to face her, and asked in a voice choked with fear, “Am I going insane?”

Verbeena winced at that question.  “Why do you ask, sweetie?”

“B-because...I feel like...”  Sam gestured vaguely at his head “there’s something wrong up here.  I-I...I have...gaps.”

“What kind of gaps?”

“Gaps in...my memory.  Like...before, when I was...Swiss-cheesed.  But...this is...different.  Because...I feel like...the gaps are because I’m...going away.”

“How do you mean?”

Sam was getting frustrated at not being able to explain himself.  “I...my body is here, but...my mind goes away.  And...someone else takes over.  Like...I’m being Leaped into for short amounts of time.”

“But you know that’s not the case, Sam.  No one’s Leaping anymore.  Zoe and Thames are dead, their project destroyed.  You’ve got the Accelerator on lockdown.”

“I... _know_ that!” Sam snapped, lurching to his feet.  “I...know.”  He clenched his jaw in anger.  “But...that’s what it _feels_ like.  Like...”  He trailed off as a sudden, horrible thought came to him.  “Like when I got electroshock,” he finished quietly, looking at Verbeena in fear.  “They’re...coming back, Doc,” he said, quieter still.

“Who, Sam?”  She was very worried now, and stood to take his hands.

“Oswald and...Kid Cody and...”  He suddenly sagged against her, and it was all she could do to keep him on his feet.

“Ziggy!  Get Al!” she yelled, trying to keep Sam from collapsing to the floor.

 

“I can’t believe they’re breaking up,” Al lamented, pacing the living room.

“They’re not ‘breaking up’,” Tina reiterated.  “Donna’s just...she needs some time.  She had a good job when she moved out, she was socializing for the first time in years, she had friends...”

“She had friends here,” Al pointed out, just slightly angry.

Tina sighed and shook her head.  “I know that, Al.  But...being here, it hurt her too much.  Every day, coming to work, knowing he was still gone and she’d never see him again...”

“She didn’t know that,” he cut in, the anger clear now.  “None of us knew that.  We held out hope...”

“But how long’s too long?” Tina questioned, trying to control her own anger and frustration.

“She gave up,” he said bitterly.  He shook his head.  “I thought...I was always impressed by how...solid she was.  All those years, and she never once had an affair, or even considered cheating on Sam.  Even though he was, in a way, cheating on her constantly, she stayed true.  I always kinda...envied that.”  He sighed wistfully.  “It couldn’t have been easy.”

“It was harder than you’d ever guess,” Tina assured him.  “I certainly couldn’t have done it.”

There was something in her voice that made a cold sensation race up his spine, but before he could ask what she meant Ziggy called for help.

“Doctor Beeks needs you over at Doctor Beckett’s residence,” she intoned, panic lacing her formality.

Al spun around on his heel and bolted next door.  He was just in time to help Verbeena get Sam over to the couch.

“How bad is it?” he asked, his voice tight with emotion.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Verbeena told him truthfully.  “We were talking, and he had a momentary...flashback I suppose is the best way to put it, to when he was merging with Oswald.  After a few minutes he came out of it, and it seemed as if he was completely unaware of what had just happened.  Except apparently he did know _something_ had happened – he said it felt like he’d been Leapt into, and the last thing he said before he collapsed was that ‘they’re coming back,’ referring to Oswald, Kid Cody, and apparently the other people he channeled after his first electroshock treatment.”  She’d said all that in as clinical a voice as she could muster, but Al heard the fear creeping in nevertheless.

“God, Sammy, what’s happened to your mind, buddy?” he asked, crouching at his friend’s side.  “What did we do to you, making you live all those other people’s lives?”

“If I might interject, Admiral,” Ziggy requested.

“What?” Al snapped, irritated that the computer was still eavesdropping; he’d never liked Sam’s suggestion of wiring their houses so Ziggy could contact them directly, rather than through their wrist communicators.  He had wanted “somewhere in my life that’s private, away from that damned nosy computer.”  Sam had won that argument, though, as he always did.

“Your daughter actually had a theory in regards to the mental toll of Doctor Beckett’s traveling through time and occupying other people’s lives,” the computer intoned.

Al’s head snapped up so quickly to stare in shock at the ceiling speakers that his neck cracked.  “What do you mean?”

“She and Doctor Fuller were conversing one day,” Ziggy explained, still being annoyingly formal, “and Ms. Reynolds suggested that Doctor Beckett might still be carrying ‘bits’ of the people he’d Leapt into.  She also posited that the reason the Doctor Leapt into you when you were a young pilot was because of the effects of the simo-Leap, and that the two of you merged more as a result, which enabled Doctor Fuller to get a stronger lock when she ran the retrieval program.”

Al abruptly sat down.  Since he was nowhere near a chair, and Sam was occupying the couch, he ended up on the floor in a confused heap.  “It...god, it makes sense,” he said, his voice ragged.  “W-we...you suggested something like that when he was Oswald, Ziggy, remember?”

“Of course I do, Admiral.  My theory was that Doctor Beckett and Lee Harvey Oswald exchanged physical neurons during the initial Leap, and I felt that we would be able to break that connection if we could in essence ‘Leap’ those neurons back to Doctor Beckett’s brain, where they belonged.”  She sighed, and it had a genuine sadness to it.  “Unfortunately, my theory proved false.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault, Zig,” Al said, still feeling completely bewildered by what was happening to his friend.  “We had no way of knowing.  We were able to Leap the young me back into me...”  He gave up; his mind just couldn’t process all of this right now.  And then the other shoe dropped, and his face went ghostly pale.  “Ohh,” he groaned, looking over at Sam as panic squeezed his heart.  “I-if Ziggy’s right, and...we merged even more, and now Sammy’s...channeling people he’s Leapt into...”

Verbeena came to the same conclusion in a few moments.  “Oh dear.”

To distract himself from the rather disturbing prospect of his best friend turning into him, however briefly, Al got back to his feet and assumed his “taking control” persona.  “Someone needs to let Donna know.”

“I already informed her, Admiral,” Ziggy assured him.  “She’s on her way.”

“Actually, she’s here,” Donna stated as she walked in.  She looked at Sam, stretched out on the couch, and shook her head sadly.  “Is there anything we can do for him, Verbeena?”

Verbeena sighed unhappily.  “I wish I had an answer, Donna.  This is like nothing I’ve ever dealt with before.”  She closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose.  “The only thing I can think of right now is to attempt hypnotherapy.  Perhaps I can...bury those other personalities.”  She opened her eyes and shrugged.  “Worth a try.”

“Too bad Ziggy’s idea didn’t work.  We could just...send Sam back to each of those people and...dump off whatever little bits got stuck,” Al suggested lightly.

Donna shot him such a murderous glare that he actually cringed. “Sam is _not_ getting sent _anywhere_ ,” she stated firmly.

“If this continues to get worse, there’s a chance Sam will start losing his sense of self,” Verbeena put in.  “He’s beginning to show signs of dissociative identity disorder, except in his case all the other personalities are real.”

“I don’t care.  Sam’s not going anywhere near that damned Accelerator.  Find a different way to cure him.”

“One of the personalities he might channel is my own,” Al said quietly.

Donna stared at him in silence for some moments, then turned to Verbeena.  “Hypnotize him.  Drug him.  Whatever you have to do.”  Then she turned and walked out of the house.

Al slumped into a chair and rubbed his face.  “Well, that went...horribly.”

Verbeena arched an eyebrow.  “Did you really think she’d agree to sending Sam back in time, Al?  After _everything_...”

“How long could...whatever kind of block you come up with last, ‘Beena?  We don’t know what’s been setting him off, so we can’t say ‘just don’t stress him out’ or whatever.  Maybe it’s some kind of...I don’t know...psychic overload or something.  Sometimes he had...weaker links to the people he Leapt into, just enough for him to be able to get around their hometown, that sort of thing.  But sometimes...well, you know as well as I do how strong some of those other links were.”  He shuddered at the memories.  “And if what Cat suggested is true, that the reason he Leapt into me was because of our...melding during the switched Leap, then...part of me’s still in Sam.  I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.  Certainly not on my best friend.”  He sighed heavily.

“Oh, Al,” Verbeena chided, “you make it sound like a sentence.  Sam’s been able to handle merging with you before.”

Al raised an eyebrow as he looked at her, then over at Sam, who was still unconscious.  “True.  But he Leapt into me when I was 23, a helluva lot more...reckless and...well, randy than I am now.  The last thing Donna needs right now is her husband acting like a younger version of me.”  He winced and closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly.  “I never realized she hated me,” he said quietly.

That statement startled Verbeena.  “What on earth do you mean?  Donna _loves_ you, Al.  You know that.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her again, sadness plain on his face.  “Really?  Did you miss the look she gave me before she left?  If looks could kill, that would’ve been my third death this year.”  He’d meant it as a joke, but he couldn’t get any humor into his words; his heart hurt too much.

“Al...”

He held up a hand to forestall further arguments.  “Right now our main concern is Sam.  Figuring out what’s causing these...ghosts of the past to return, and how we can get rid of them.”  He said “we” purely to placate Verbeena – this situation was completely beyond his capacity, and he knew it.  He knew nothing about how the human mind worked, or what could damage it.  He’d leave all the work to Verbeena, Ziggy, and likely Sammy Jo, and do whatever they needed him to.  Somehow, they’d get Sam back.  That much he was sure of.  They’d never failed before.

Verbeena sighed, deciding to let the matter drop.  For now.  “Do you want to talk to Sammy Jo?” she asked.

Al groaned.  “Damn.  I...yeah, I probably should.  I mean...one of us should, I guess I’ll do it.”  He stood, and looked once more at Sam.  “Let me know?” he requested.

“Of course, Al.”  She surprised him by crossing to him and hugging him tightly.  “Sam will be all right.  We’ll figure it out,” she promised.

“I hope you’re right, Doc.”  He swallowed hard and wiped at the corner of his eye.  “I-I can’t...get him home, only to lose him again.”

“Nor can any of us,” she said softly.  “We’ll figure it out,” she repeated, firmly.

Al nodded, then braced himself for the uncomfortable task ahead of him.  “Ziggy,” he called out, “where is Sammy Jo right now?”

“In your daughter’s quarters, Admiral,” was the prompt reply.  “Ms. Reynolds was experiencing...nightmares, and Doctor Fuller was comforting her.”

“Ah, boy,” Al muttered under his breath as he headed out of Sam’s house for the complex.  He could easily guess what those nightmares were; he’d had a few himself after he’d rescued her.  Damned memories from Vietnam came back to him at the worst times.  Right now, though, he had to suppress those memories the best he could – too many people needed him right now.  He couldn’t afford to lose himself to the past.

 

Al found the two young women playing a board game when he reached Cat’s quarters.  They both looked up when he entered, and Sammy Jo dropped the black-and-white piece in her hand when she saw his face.  “It’s Dad, isn’t it?” she assumed, getting immediately to her feet.

He nodded unhappily.  “I’m afraid so, sweetie.  He...had another episode.  Verbeena’s with him now.”

“Where’s Donna?” Cat asked, getting up as well.

“She...knows,” Al said simply, swallowing a sudden lump of emotion that was trying to block his throat.

“The battle for the title of Queen of Reversi will have to wait,” Cat said as she headed for the door.

But Sammy Jo could tell something was bothering Al, and she lingered a moment.  “What’s wrong?” she asked him quietly.

He smiled faintly.  “It’s nothing.  It can wait.  You better go see your father.”

Sammy Jo was skeptical, but she knew better than to try to argue.  Instead, she kissed his cheek, then she and Cat hurried out.  Al sighed, and looked around his daughter’s quarters, then went to see if he could locate Donna.  He wanted to talk to her, apologize for...whatever it was he had done that had upset her so badly.  He couldn’t figure out what had happened, why she should be so...bitter towards him, but he intended to find out.

As he walked the empty corridors, he mulled things over.  He’d been Donna’s only connection to Sam for all those years, the only way she had to know how he was.  She’d asked Al not to tell Sam about their marriage, knowing that he’d have an easier time in situations where he was supposed to be in love with someone if he didn’t feel he was cheating on his wife.  But she’d been careful not to ask Al for too many details; she only wanted to know when and who Sam was, and what he had to do in order to help that person and move on.

Could that be it?  Could Donna be upset that Al and Sam had...secrets?  Some of the Leaps he would never fully tell her about; things that Sam had faced or had had to do that would only upset her.  And for what purpose?  His life was no longer in danger, he’d done what he’d had to, and now he was home, safe.  Or, he would be as soon as they could figure out what was happening to his mind and how to fix it.

 

Donna, meanwhile, was in Sam’s old office.  She’d often gone there while he was gone; it was the one place in the entire project that “felt” like him.  She leaned back in his chair, closed her eyes, then called out, “Ziggy?”

“Yes, Doctor Elesee?”

“What are the actual odds of being able to...remove those...fragments or whatever they are of the people Sam merged with?”

“Currently 479 to 1, Doctor.  However, I am working on several different scenarios, one of which should enable us to do just that.  Since I have all of the Doctor’s Leaps cataloged, the only thing I need to know is which of the personalities he’s melding with, and how strong that connection is.  Then I can work on isolating the neurons that merged...”

“Ok, Ziggy.  I don’t need a step-by-step explanation.  Just...do what you think is best, and let me know when you’ve worked it out, all right?”

The computer was a bit perplexed by the tone of Donna’s voice, but simply said, “Very well, Doctor.  Anything else?”

“Yeah.  I don’t want to be disturbed.”

“So shall I tell the Admiral to return to his home?  He’s currently five feet from your door.”

Donna groaned.  Al was the _last_ person she wanted to talk to right now.  “Yeah, that’d be great.  Thank you.”

 

“What do you mean, she doesn’t want to be disturbed?” Al demanded a moment later, after Ziggy had relayed Donna’s message.

“She does not wish any visitors, Admiral.  I thought that was the obvious meaning.”

Al stopped just outside Sam’s closed office door and looked at it for a long few moments, then sighed heavily, turned and walked away, hands in his pants pockets and head down.  “Message received, Ziggy,” he said glumly.

“I’m sorry, Al,” the computer said sincerely.  “Is there anything...”

“Nah.  When she’s ready to talk, she will.  Thanks.”

“Oh dear,” Ziggy muttered to herself.  “This isn’t good.”


End file.
